Final Fantasy
by Ditydity
Summary: Its my first attempt at putting such a thing up hope you guys can give me some suggestions or so this is just the prolugue of the first part, if i ever got the time again i will carry on with the story


"Hahaha Stupid hume! Go away," cries an elvaan child. "Ney ney she doesn't have a pointy earer She is just a silly hume," sings another elvaan child. Amidst in the singing of the birds and apart from the noisy market in the far south side of the town came the giggling and singing of children. Somewhere in the woods of Ronfaure stood a castle, a majestic castle where grayish soaring turrets crowd the skies, thick imposing walls which stood tall and high, wearing its years of battle scars proudly. Soldiers camouflage in their grayish armor, patrolling the walls with pride, if not dignity. It is like any ordinary day, children having fun, mothers rushing out to gather the clothes in fear of the rain, the male genders of the society trading stories of battle and mysteries of the world in the taverns to one another. Some of them brought their kids along, so that the mothers or ladies could manage their housework in peace, but only if they faithfully promise to be on their best behavior at all times. The children nod spasmodically as this could be the only time where they could hear the wonderful world of tales outside the castle of San d'Oria. With wide gaping mouths, they marveled at the description of towering giants, ferocious beasts, the breath taking might of the legendary dragons, all captured in the vividly and well descript details. While some of them enjoyed the stories, there were a few who just couldn't sit still for long periods of time and manage to wander away from the inattentive father, whom mostly were too far into the drinks, and went of to play around the garden that's directly behind the one and only well established tavern in the city.

Looking from afar at the first glance, people would have thought that the children were just crowding around a corner playing. Only an observant person would realize that in the midst was a hume child, one with the head of raven hair and sliver eyes, although there is a slight resemblance of the elvaan fixture on the jaws, but the hume side of her is much stronger then the weaker biological growth of the elvaan blood, thus giving her the sharp but slightly roundish shape of a hume's face. A face that would have lit the darkness if a smile glorified on her lips and twinkling eyes that brings joy to everyone's heart just by looking at them. But now the eyes are not twinkling, neither was the lip smiling. Instead the eyes now clouded more with fear and the lips conjured into trembling thin lines. The children around them wasn't playing, in fact, if you ever seen a cornered prey, she would resembles one almost akin. There was mud on her hair and clothes, and the ribbon that is used to tie her raven hair came loose and now stumbled messily onto her shoulder. But the children surrounding her shown no care or concern whatsoever, but continued to hurl insults her way.

Surprisingly no one came to the aid of this child, maybe it's due to the racial and heritage of this child's blood that makes most people shun her. The hume child huddled close to the wall with her knees to her chest, while covering her ears with her hands, she whimpered quietly, hoping that the abuse would end soon. But as if harsh and sarcastic words weren't enough, one of the elvaan children picked up a rock and threw it with dreadful accuracy towards the hume child. The stone connected sharply with the skull of the young hume and blood flows almost instantly. Gasping in pain, the child places her hand onto her wounded area and huddles, if possible deeper within herself. Just as the elvaan bully picks up another rock and prepares to loose the projectile towards his victim again, a wrinkled elder hand grabs hold of the offending limb and gently twist the rock out of the bully's hand. With an intensified stare at the group of elvaan children, the old elderly man thundered," What in blazes is the whole lot of you doing?" The children with one look, screams and scampers away. The child, whose being held in the grip of the elderly man, squirms violently trying to make his escape. But the hold of the elderly man is like an iron grip, slowly and surely the bully found himself being turned around, and forced eye to eye with the livid eye that's towering with indescribable anger.

"Would you mind explaining what are you doing to my god daughter?" asked the elderly man in a dreadful whisper.

"Ar…erm….we are er….playing, Priest master," stammered the child.

"Ah… playing I see…..but is playing about making someone BLEED!" thundered the man. Frightened into immobility, the child could only quiver and quack at the old man.

"ANSWER ME!" the man roared.

"N..oo… si..si…sir"

"If I ever…..EVER saw you doing that again….I will make you wish you would never have been born!" snarled the man with a horrifying voice. "Now run off!"

The elderly man released his hand and with a frighten yelped the elvaan child scampered off like a hare. Watching the bully until the elderly man lost sight of the brat, he turns around with a gentle gaze on the crying child. Heaving a sigh, he kneels down and pulled the child close to his body, where the child erupts into burst of sobs and tears….

Ever since Silverstar came to this world, the world around her has been revolving in a series of bullies, shunning and ridicule. Elvaan mothers would pull their children away, hinting that she's a bad person, elvaan elders who looked tend to stare down from the tip of the nose, as though by just looking at her would incur some misfortune catastrophe on themselves. Rumors new and old were spread behind her back, some of them so hair raising that it sounds too intolerable to believe, but due to the caused of Silver's birth, no one gave a second thought on the credibility of them.

The truth is that, Silver was brought into this world not by design, but was due to a tavern brawl, where her mother was raped by a male hume. Her mother, Melenous, was one of the few renowned minstrels that have ever existed in the city of San d'Oria, not one could match her in voice and beauty even up to date, maybe it's God's miserable prank, or maybe its just fate that such a vicious act happened on that day. Although the guards came and manage to put an end to the brawl, but by then it was too late. The priesthood, whom are the caretakers of the well being of the people, went in search of Melenous and found her in the care of a friend's home and insisted that she abort the child, but she venomously protested against it, reminding the priest that it is the elvaan's belief that taking a life of the innocent away is not the way of the elvaan's and would be considered a sacrilege to their core of religion.

"The child that is in my womb is mine to keep, none other person could take her away from me," cried Melenous. "But minstrel Melen please, listen to us," coax a kind elderly priest draped in black head scarf and sky blue grown, the jaws covered with a downward flowing white beard. "The child would not have a happy life, even if she has a chance to come into this world. Do you wish for your child to have an unhappy life? A birth neither by design nor by wants?"

Looking to and fore between Melenous's friend and the elderly priest, the mother blinded by tears, look forlornly at her waist, patting on the unborn child.

"Even though it is not by design nor by wants, this child has a chance to live, a chance to breath, a chance to see the world, to laugh and play in the woods, to dance around the fountain, a chance to see the sunset and the sunrise and at least a chance to taste what living truly means. If you are a mother, or a father, wouldn't you want to at least try, or should I say, to give a chance to your child?"

Staring eye to eye, being unable to bear the sorrowful and harden faith gaze of the mother to be, the priest turns away sighing.

"If that is your wish minstrel, there is nothing I could say nor do to discourage you from this course of action," sigh the priest. "But remember, whatever this child will face in the future, remember, it is your choice, and your own free will, never to regret whatever choice you make, and hope for the best. If you and your child ever need someone to turn to, do please come to me, come to Narcheral, and I will do my utmost best to help you, if they are within my means." Saying that, with the ushering of the other minstrel, the priest left the room. Melenous stares at the vacant spot that the priest was, thinking through the words that he said.

"Do I have a choice?" she mumbled to herself. "Yes the child may suffer, but to deny her birth would be to deny life, and further the more, even though she doesn't know who her father might be, but at least she will have the love of her mother." With that she broke down into tears, fearing for the child whom won't have a man to call father. Her friend settled down next to her side and gently hugged her until she cries herself to sleep.

Of cos this incident was known to everyone, her rivals gloated at her misfortune, her friend's cries for her, some may wonder why such a thing would happen upon such a wonderful woman, a woman whom brings joy to people ever since they knew her. Her song is so sweet and gentle that she can even lure the gentle sparrows down to perch on her shoulder, and joined her together in a harmonious song. People who saw her would thought that a goddess has came and walked upon the mist of them, man would miss steps and walked into walls just from looking at her. Misfortune happens, they say, maybe through this ill fated incident that would she be blessed through other ways. But sadly that was not the case, after months of pregnancy, the time for the child to be born came. It was a difficult labor which lasted three days and nights, going into fake labor half the time. Everyone was thinking she might not make it through at all and lost both the child and herself. Finally at the brink of the morning rise, an infant's crying echoed through the clear cloudless sky, the child was born. But alas, it was not the elvaan visage that graces the midwife's eyes, the only resemblance that was given by the mother, was the silver eyes. The pitiful amount of hair that most children have at the time of birth was black, roundish ears, basically a typical hume child. Nevertheless, no one can ever admit that a more angel-like hume child has ever been born. The crying wasn't sharp or penetrating, but has enough strength and yet smoothness in it. The rosy cheek that has a slightly reddish tingle on it makes a rose pedal pale in comparison.

But the amount of blood that Melenous lost during the bleeding was too much, the midwife knows that she wouldn't last much longer, thus as gently as she possibly could, she laid the mother into a sitting position and tries to make her as comfortable as possible. Melenous eye fluttered open and reaches out for her handiworks. Gently the midwife places the child into the hands of the mother, a dying mother.

"Isn't the child beautiful?" she asked weakly as she gently laid the drowsing child against her chest.

"Yes she is" said the mid-wife gently "She is like an angel from heaven, being given to you as a gift that no one can ever have"

"Yes, so she does……." With that the mother starts to cough, covering the mouth with her cloak. As she moves her cloak from her mouth, the cloak was covered in an oval shape of her lips, filled with blood.

"How much …..longer do I have…. sister?"

"Not...much longer," replies the mid wife in a sorrowful voice.

"Could you ask……the priest of Chateau d'Oraguille… Narcheral..to come? …I have….things to discuss with …..him" weakly Melenous cradles the child closer to her breast, holding onto it as long as her breath holds. Hurriedly the mid wife excuses herself and calls for the priest.

After what seems like eons to the dying mother, breathlessly the priest arrives together with the midwife. Hurriedly Narcheral went to the side of the mother and pales. What was supposed to be a white linen bed sheet was now half covered in wet bright red blood. "Is she going to….." inquire the elderly priest. Mutely the midwife nodded, turning her head away to blink away the tears that were slowly glistening down her matronly face. Turning back, Narcheral puts up a brave front and settles himself beside the dying mother, cradling to his shoulder as would a husband do. "Minstrel? Come on open your eyes, Im here," he whispers.

Slowly the Minstrel open her eyes, looking up weakly, she clutches the hands of the priest and said, "I know my time…..left in this world…is not enough…" she struggles to say. "A few months….you told me….if I need….you will help me….wont you" Nodding silently, he urges the dying mother to continue. "Please…I'm not…good mother… cough cough… I couldn't stay long enough….to care for her…." "Don't say that, some things can't be helped," chides the priest gently "Please…let me fin.." even before the completion of her sentence, she coughed out another mouthful of blood. Narcheral grabs hold of her and the baby, fearing that she might collapse onto the floor from the bed. With a glance towards the mid wife, he knows that the minstrel's time is almost nearing its end. After the bout of coughing ended, the mother pulls in a ragged breath, struggling to stay alive for another moment more.

"Tell me child, tell me what can I do, what do you wish of me to do" urged the priest. Looking up, she whispered weakly, " Please…care for her, care for Silverstar.." Turning her head to the window, she laid her eyes on a star, a star that normally shine in the early morning. Struggling she continues,"….my beautiful child…that I can no longer see or hug…to show my love to…my only gift…is the name that I could think of…and hope that the star above…that is shining brightly now…will guide and watch over her…and…please…give her what……I cou….." What I could not as a mother….the unsaid but understood words echoed its meaning in the room. Silverstar slowly opened her bright silver eyes and starts to cry, as though she knows that she has just came to realization that she has been degraded to an orphan. Gazing at the weeping priest, she reaches out her small hands towards him, searching for the love, nourishment and warmth which the now limp hands could not offer. Brushing away the tears, the elderly priest cradles the baby from her the limp arms of the minstrel and glance at the peaceful face of the mother who died….

Looking down at the sobbing child, Narcheral gave a sigh. -The poor child- he thought to himself. -So lonely and alone, without someone to cry or turn to in her dire needs like this. I have warned Melenous that something like this would happen, but she just won't listen. But at least with Gods grace she won't have to see her child suffer this way- "My dear Silver, you must be strong." Gently he lifted up the chin of the tears streak child. "But grandfather …sob…I'm sacred" wails Silver. "Ah but scared you might be, but you must remember, if you never tries to stand up for yourself, no one else can help you on it," chides Narcheral. "They are many but I am only one, what can I do by myself?" she sniffles. "Bullies are always small in their heart, stand up to them once and they wont dare to come at you again. Come lets head back to the Cathedral and get you cleaned up, especially that wound you have on your head, alright?" Sniffing, Silver nodded and allows her to be picked up and saddle upon the arms of her grandfather.

"Grandfather?"

"Yes?"

"Would you always be by my side"

"Of course I will silly, what makes you ask such a question?"

"Nothing…I love u grandfather"

"I know, so do I".

Slowly, with the two of them giggling at each other, they made their way to the place where the choirs gather together sung hymns in unison.


End file.
